The Sunday Poem

The Sunday Poem: Elisabeth Frost

Poet Elisabeth Frost       Monarch Those of us who survive are waiting for normal life, believing in the idea, though everybody knows from months of TV that the wait has extended impossibly, like a line in space or a rope stretched beyond all capacity. We see signs. [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:53:59+00:00 10.29.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: Elisabeth Frost

The Sunday Poem: Gregory Pardlo

Gregory Pardlo (Photo by Jay Franco)     Problema 3   The Fulton St. Foodtown is playing Motown and I’m surprised at how quickly my daughter picks up the tune. And soon the two of us, plowing rows of goods steeped in fructose under light thick as corn oil, [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:54:00+00:00 10.22.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: Gregory Pardlo

The Sunday Poem: Cristián Flores García

      an invitation to lunch   we tailgate the ambulance escaping the explosion of midday holiday shoppers gridlocked there’s the assaulting antiseptic odor and the head nurse suggesting we wait outside perhaps go for a bite to eat nothing for us yet not allowed in condition critical but stable [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:55:25+00:00 10.08.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: Cristián Flores García

The Sunday Poem: Jean Valentine

  Jean Valentine (Photo by Max Greenstreet)   In Prison   In prison without being accused   or reach your family or have a family            You have   conscience heart trouble   asthma manic-depressive   (we lost the baby) no meds   no one no window   black water nail-scratched [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:55:28+00:00 09.24.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: Jean Valentine

The Sunday Poem: John Poch

      Forgiveness   Because justice must recede like a page number and because the dictionary of under is a tedious read, more simply consider the ground as those who pour concrete think of how it rained or will. Consequently, consider the sky, and pray like a murderer has died. [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:55:30+00:00 09.17.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: John Poch

The Sunday Poem: Peter Balakian

        World Trade Center / Mail Runner / 73   There was no languor, no drowsy trade winds, or stoned-out stupor of lapping waves, only news, the big board of crime, corporate raiding, selling short and long. It didn'’t matter, I was no Ishmael. I just hovered there [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:55:32+00:00 09.10.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: Peter Balakian

The Sunday Poem: D. Nurkse

      The Present   We made models: this is a moment of happiness, this is a maple-shaded street, its yellow median line littered with double wings: some day we might know such things in our real lives, not just in desire. We invented Cherryfield, Maine, nine pearl-gray Capes with [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:55:52+00:00 07.28.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem: D. Nurkse

The Sunday Poem by Andrea Cohen

I'm excited to announce the first installment of Gwarlingo's new Sunday Poem series. I want to thank Andrea Cohen for sharing her new poem "Tender" with Gwarlingo readers. I'm a long-time fan of Andrea's work, and I'm grateful she agreed to be the featured poet for the series debut. [...]

By | 2016-11-11T21:55:58+00:00 07.16.11|The Sunday Poem, Words|Comments Off on The Sunday Poem by Andrea Cohen
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